


Trigger Man

by raphae11e



Category: Scarface (1932)
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Edgeplay, Fingerfucking, Gangsters, Hand Jobs, M/M, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raphae11e/pseuds/raphae11e
Summary: This time, Guino gets to be the one in charge. It turns out fairly well for the both of them-- with the help of some additional tools, one could say.
Relationships: Antonio "Tony" Camonte/Guino Rinaldo
Kudos: 5





	Trigger Man

**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill, folks. ;^) Enjoy!!!

It wasn’t often that Guino was the one to take charge in-- well, in anything, really. He was good at following orders, didn’t mind it, and at times even enjoyed it. Those times, of course, pretty much always involved Tony. But being around Tony also always lit some kinda flame in him, and while it was usually channeled into shootouts or fistfights and the like, sometimes it took a different path. 

This time, it had led to Tony spread out in bed before him. Naked. And, for once, Guino himself was not.

“So you’re sayin’ this thing’ll work some kinda wonders on me, huh?”

Guino huffed out a laugh. “Somethin’ like that,” he agreed. In one hand he held the “thing” in question: a leather ring, soft enough to bend as needed, wide enough to fit several fingers inside. If his, uh,  _ measurements _ were right, it should be the perfect size. Which was exactly what he was trying to convince his friend of now.

“I dunno.” Despite the confidence in his posture, Tony was eyeing the ring with something close to apprehension. “It don’t seem like the kinda thing you want anywhere near there.”

“That’s what it’s  _ made _ for though.” Guino stretched it a bit with thumb and forefinger, head cocked. “You ain’t scared, are you?” he asked, lightly, knowing he was walking a very fine line between acceptable ribbing and an actual insult. 

Predictably, Tony straightened up against the headboard and lifted his chin. “‘Course I ain’t,” he said. 

“And you trust me?”

Without hesitation: “Sure I do.” 

Something deep in Guino’s chest glowed. “Well then, let’s try it.” He didn’t get any more protests after that.

Resting his weight on his heels, Guino situated himself between Tony’s spread legs. When he reached out to rest a palm on one thigh, he felt the tense muscle there relax just the barest amount. Tony wasn’t hard yet, which was well and good; made it easier to adjust things as needed. Guino took him in hand and snapped the ring open with the other, sliding it down to the base of Tony’s cock. 

“That feel alright?” he asked once everything was secured.

Tony shifted a bit on the bed, eyebrows knit in concentration. “I… think so. It don’t hurt or nothin’.”

“Good. Let me know if it starts to.”

“Right. So are we just supposed t--  _ mmph! _ ”

Tony’s sentence was cut off as Guino leaned forward to kiss him, hands braced on either side of his hips. He recovered quickly though: cradling Guino’s jaw, he held them together and, easy as breathing, took control of the kiss. Guino didn’t mind letting him, either-- even when he had to fight against Tony’s iron grip to give himself space to breathe. Soon enough he was panting and trying not to choke on the tongue that had been shoved unceremoniously down his throat.

There wasn’t really any question as to how much he enjoyed this sort of treatment; his already uncomfortable slacks were proof enough. It felt  _ good  _ to submit. The give and take of their relationship was usually just take, take, take, until it felt like he’d poured out his very insides, leaving Tony to fill the void with whatever he saw fit-- but, then again, Guino wasn’t a gangster for nothing. Taking risks felt just as good, and God knows challenging Tony Camonte was taking a risk, even if he liked you fine. 

He felt pretty confident this time around though. After all, he  _ had _ rigged the deck.

Tony’s hips jumped eagerly at the first brush of fingers over his cock. He was only half-hard, but that wouldn’t last long; not when Guino pulled away just long enough to spit into his hand before reaching back down. If he angled his body just right, he could keep up their kissing without putting too much strain on his arm. The grip Tony had on his waist made it a little difficult, but he managed. 

For the briefest of moments, as Guino twisted his wrist, Tony fell back just enough to give him the upper hand. He wasted no time in biting down on that full bottom lip until he tasted copper. That earned him a growl, a grope at his ass, and a rush of blood straight to his cock. Nothing made Tony hotter than bloodshed-- and nothing made Guino hotter than Tony. A fine mess, the both of them.

“It’s-- it’s tighter now,” Tony gasped out as they broke apart.

Guino paused immediately. “Should I take it o--”

“No! No,” the hands on him squeezed tighter, a wordless (and frankly useless) threat, “Don’-- take it off. Leave it.” 

Not that he didn’t trust Tony, but this  _ was  _ new territory for both of them, so Guino pulled away regardless. He got a scowl and a quiet noise of frustration for his caution but, surprisingly, not much else. 

Looking down at the cock in his hand had Guino biting his lip, heat rising to his face. Nothing seemed to be wrong, thankfully, from what he could tell. He was also more than a little distracted at the way the ring had Tony’s skin flushing a bright red, veins standing out in stark relief. The warmth of it against his palm throbbed in time with Tony’s quickened heartbeat. Guino could feel his mouth starting to water.

_ Nothing ventured,  _ he thought,  _ nothing gained.  _ He bent forward to seal his lips around its head and took Tony all the way to the hilt in one smooth motion.

The sudden weight in his throat had his vision swimming, but he wasn’t far gone enough to miss Tony’s shout of surprise and strangled cursing. Guino just let his eyes flutter shut and focused. He kept one hand around the base of Tony’s cock and the other braced against the crook of his knee, hoping that would be enough to prevent any sudden movements. As much as he loved Tony’s thighs and all their corded muscle, he didn’t particularly relish the thought of having them snap shut on his head. 

Fortunately his friend seemed to get the message: he could feel the body under his hands trembling in an effort to stay still. That gave Guino enough leverage to bob his head, nursing Tony’s cock on his tongue with every stroke. He could taste a bit of precome, though not nearly as much as usual; it didn’t flood his mouth, didn’t force him to swallow, but it still had him salivating all the same. That alone was enough to make up the difference. 

“F-Fuck, I wanna just--” 

A hand fisted itself in Guino’s hair and he groaned appreciatively. He hoped that was enough of an answer; he couldn’t exactly pull away with that firm grip holding him down, nor did he want to. And if the resulting thrust was anything to go by-- one that had Tony’s cock tapping the back of his throat, that had Guino choking and pleasure lancing right down his spine-- that was a  _ yes.  _

It was easy to relax and just let Tony guide him as needed; they’d done this enough that Guino had found a rhythm, however shaky, that allowed him to breathe. Tony’s body coiled tight beneath him, thrusts becoming erratic far quicker than usual, tension ready to snap at a moment’s notice. Something dangerously close to euphoria bloomed in Guino then: he could  _ feel  _ the frustration in Tony’s every movement, the increasing desperation to reach that climax that kept on building and yet remained  _ just  _ out of reach. He wondered how long it had been since Tony was last denied something like this.

Soon after, the anticipation proved to be too much, and Tony just… stopped. The hand holding Guino in place went limp and slipped away. When he released the cock with a  _ pop,  _ it was slick and purpling at the tip, and Tony was breathing hard above him. A blush was spreading down his neck and chest in deep splotches of color.

“Feel like you’re gonna come?” Guino asked, voice hoarse. He kept his hand on Tony’s cock, jerking him off and watching hungrily as it made that scarred face go slack with pleasure.

“I-I--” Tony swallowed noisily. “Yeah, but I can’t--” His mouth shut with a  _ snap  _ as Guino’s thumb rubbed over the head of his cock, hips twitching uselessly, hands now fisted in the sheets. “I  _ can’t,”  _ he said again, sounding halfway between angry and miserable. Even so, he didn’t look away, that hot stare never once leaving Guino’s face. 

“Do you want me to let you?”

A muscle jumped in Tony’s jaw. “… Yes.”

“And do you trust me still?”

Tony didn’t answer that right away-- though not for lack of trying. Guino just happened to choose that specific moment to speed up his strokes. It got the muscles of Tony’s stomach to tense up, straining for some form of relief and finding none. Guino wanted, embarrassingly, to kiss them.

“Do you  _ trust  _ me, Tony?” 

_“Yes!”_ The bed rocked as Tony shifted his weight rather violently, half into Guino’s grip and half away from it, teeth bared in a snarl. “Yeah, yes, fuck, s- _shit,_ you already asked me earlier, whaddya need me t’say it again for?!”

Guino was already moving before he even finished, rising onto his knees to reach the drawer of the nightstand. The little bottle of lube inside was easy enough to find. He poured (probably too much) into his left palm, tossed the bottle aside, and spread some of it on his right hand as well. When he wrapped his newly slick grip around Tony’s cock, the man made a noise like he’d been shot-- and was so focused on the sensation that he didn’t notice the two fingers Guino had slid between his legs. That is, not until they pressed gently but insistently against his hole, until the muscle finally gave way and let those fingers in.

“Wh-What--” The entire length of Tony’s spine went ramrod straight. “Th-That’s-- Y-You--”

Tony wasn’t a particularly eloquent person-- though Guino would never dare tell him so-- but this was inarticulate, even for him. He tossed his head back, hitting the bedframe with a  _ thunk,  _ mouth hanging open in surprise. Guino could make out the fluttering motion of his throat as he moaned and panted raggedly.

And when Guino crooked his fingers  _ just  _ right, testing the waters, it was the closest he’d ever gotten to hearing Tony sob.

“Do you want me to let you come?” he asked for the second time, eyes fixed to Tony’s writhing form, blood pounding through him like the sweetest rush of adrenaline. He understood it now-- that heady feeling that Tony got when he bent Guino to his will. When he knew that Guino was letting him. He could feel his own body throbbing, neglected, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not when Tony lifted his head, eyes glassy and unfocused, and begged him,  _ “Please.” _

With one shaking hand Guino undid the clasp of the ring and let it fall to the bed. All he had to do was pump Tony’s cock once, twice, and the tension finally broke. 

It never got old, seeing Tony fall to pieces. Normally Guino was far more senseless in the moment, himself, which made it hard to appreciate all the little details. This time, he was about as clear-headed as could be expected; he drank in the sight of Tony’s thighs spreading, hips twitching abortively, lips parted and eyes nearly crossed. Come striped his heaving stomach, almost high enough to reach his chin. When Guino curled the fingers in Tony’s ass and pressed down, it made his cock flex and drool a few more thick strands onto his belly. 

The ensuing silence was punctuated by harsh breathing and the rustle of sheets. Tony lay sprawled out, eyes still shut, looking about ready to drop dead; Guino slumped back with a wince, one arm behind him to support his weight. It was hard to ignore the persistent ache of his trapped cock now that he’d finished what he’d started. Though the high of getting Tony off was enough to satiate him-- for a brief moment, anyway.

“Maybe…” Tony cleared his throat when the word came out hoarse and tried again. “Maybe you was right about this thing workin’ wonders, after all.” Though a flush was still high on his cheeks, he wouldn’t look away from Guino’s face. Eyes half-mast, teeth half-bared, comfortable as could be now that he’d hit that peak. The heat in Guino’s gut flared even hotter.

“Damn right I was,” he agreed. He also sounded a bit strangled, but unlike Tony, he didn’t bother trying to hide it.


End file.
